Mom doesn't trust me.

I'm serious. She doesn't.

Mom declares, "hey, do we have any Rice-a-Roni?"
"Yeah..."
"Why don't you make some?"

So I skim the box, quickly. I notice the Microwave directions. *[for the record, the microwave scares me. Whenever you see microwave instructions, it's a pretty good bet they were written for 650 to 700 watt microwave ovens. Ours is a 1200 watt microwave oven.]*

"Hey, mom, were you aware that there were Microwave directions?"
"No. You can make it in the microwave, if you like."
"No, no. I'm scared of putting stuff in there for five minutes. This says 'twenty-five to twenty-eight minutes'."
"Oh, no! No, it'll come out nuclear. Well, what you do is, add a little butter, and just brown it lightly."
"Brown it?"
"Yeah. You know. Lightly, on a low flame. Then add some water and the flavor packet."
"There's a flavor packet?"
"Yeah..."
"Oh, wait, the Special Seasonings..."
"Yeah."
"Okay... Wait. How do I get it open."

"Y'know what?" she said, holding out her hand, "give it to me."
"What? You don't trust me?"
"No. Give it to me."


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